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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618610">5 Times Max Got Drunk By Himself + 1 Time He Didn't</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhCalamity47/pseuds/OhCalamity47'>OhCalamity47</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Formula 1 RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Daniel is a good person, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Excessive Drinking, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:35:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhCalamity47/pseuds/OhCalamity47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The title is pretty self-explanatory. A short depiction of Max' relationship with alcohol.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daniel Ricciardo &amp; Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>5 Times Max Got Drunk By Himself + 1 Time He Didn't</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1.</p>
<p>Max knew it had been a bad idea to go to the liquor store. He’d felt a pang of guilt as he’d paid for his booze. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t be drinking during the season. Still when the stressful (yet rewarding) race weekend had been over and he’d felt the need to wind down a bit, the first idea in his head had been to get drunk. And when the idea had made its way there, there was no way to get it out of his head. So now he was sitting alone in his hotel room, confronted by the bottles on his desk. He hadn’t drunk anything so far but he knew he would end up doing so, no matter how much his guilt was eating at him when he was just looking at the bottles.</p>
<p>His relationship with alcohol could be described as complicated at best. In his childhood both his mum and dad had been very strict about him not drinking underage, so he really hadn’t had many opportunities to drink anything before he turned 18. His first experience getting drunk had been a good one. He had gotten drunk with some of his friends, them dragging him to bars and buying him drinks until his whole world was spinning and he was all smiles and drunken giggles. He’d felt so light for the night, the alcohol washing away his anxiety and making him feel excited about everything. It had been a good feeling and when he woke up the next day with nothing that could be considered a hangover, he’d craved it again. That, combined with the fact that he could now legally walk into a liquor store and buy whatever he liked was his downfall, really. His freedom was a curse.</p>
<p>After that he’d started drinking by himself sometimes. He hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, he knew what they’d think of that, so he’d kept the bottles piling up in corners his personal little secret. He’d known it would be a slippery slope when he’d started but he had been so sure he could keep a handle on it, he hadn’t cared. But the problem was that he was a happy drunk yet so anxious and pretty often straight up sad when sober, so whenever he was anxious or sad or when he wanted to reward himself for getting through something stressful, he’d have a drink. At first it hadn’t been too often to be worrying, but over time his escapades had gotten more frequent. And the more frequent they had gotten, the louder the voice in the back of his head got, yelling at him that he was in dangerous territory, slipping too far out of control. He kept telling himself he could stop if he wanted to, he just really didn’t want to, so there was nothing to be worried about. He, of course, knew he was lying. He’d told those same lies to himself since he’d been 18 and that had been years ago.</p>
<p>Fuck it, he thought as he downed his first drink in one go, swallowing his guilt with the liquid burning his throat.<br/>-<br/>Later that night when he’d lost count of how much he’d drunk, he was laying on his bed, feeling vaguely nauseous, the world spinning violently around him. The giddy excited feeling he used to get from alcohol hadn’t come no matter how much he’d had. He’d lost his ability to think straight bit by bit over the course of the night, but the happiness and relaxation never came, only the standard drunk feeling he was ever so familiar with. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Those feelings rarely came anymore. Yet he kept trying to reach them. If he hadn’t been so drunk, he knew he would have been ashamed (which he undoubtedly would be the following morning) for being so desperate. It was moments like this he really wanted to just stop. Too bad he never remembered in the morning, and the next time drinking would seem like a good idea again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>2.</p>
<p>Max was making bad decisions again. He’d stopped ignoring that panicked voice in the back of his head for a while and hadn’t had a drink since that time in his hotel room. Today was different, though. His brain was a mess and he didn’t know any other way to shut it up, to stop the thoughts from dangerously spinning out of control in his mind.</p>
<p>He walked into the liquor store trying to look like he wasn’t about to have a breakdown. He really didn’t need that in the tabloids. He clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking and dug his nails into his skin in an attempt to stop himself from crying. He had no idea what any of the bottles said because the labels weren’t in English but he didn’t particularly care what it was he bought. He simply went with the highest percentage he could find with his quick scrambling through the bottles and made his way to the till. He didn’t really care what it was he was buying, he only knew he had absolutely no intention of being coherent for the rest of the night and as long as the bottle had alcohol in it, he was good with it.</p>
<p>He stuffed his bottle into his backpack after he’d paid for it and rushed back onto the street. He was sure he already looked like a mess, but the mix of feelings coursing through him really took away from his coordination skills. He hated it, but what could you do.</p>
<p>It hadn’t been a great day from the get-go. At first he’d woken up late on a race day, which was never ideal. The whole day from there had just been a mistake after mistake, something he’d like to forget. Then when in the race he’d made a small mistake that had escalated to a DNF and a completely wrecked car he’d already been on edge. But when his father had called him to yell at him, he’d just lost it. They’d had a shouting match on the phone that had left anger coursing through Max’ veins as he’d hung up on his father. Anger that had soon turned into panic and disappointment and disgust with himself. All those emotions were enough to make him throw caution to the wind just to get his mind to shut up for a moment, and now he was speed walking back to his hotel with the bottle of booze feeling heavy in his backpack.</p>
<p>The sound of the door clicking shut behind him felt relieving. He was safe from the outside world now. He let the tears brimming his eyes roll down his cheeks, holding them back now that he was alone too much of a chore. He pulled out the bottle and twisted the cap open. He didn’t bother with a glass, instead he just raised the bottle to his lips. He hesitated for a second, catching himself in a mirror. He looked horrible. His eyes were red and his cheeks were pink, tear tracks running on the skin, the hand holding up the bottle shaking. Was this who he really was? This mess? He closed his eyes and took a swig. It tasted as disgusting as he’d imagined but the burn took away his panic, so he took another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>3.</p>
<p>Max nearly had a heart attack as he registered the knock at his door. He scrambled onto his feet, quickly screwing shut the open bottle on his nightstand and hastily shoved it into his bag as he stood up. He popped a breath mint in his mouth to try and get rid of the smell of alcohol on his breath. God, he hoped the smell of alcohol wouldn’t be lingering in the air enough for the person at the door to be able to smell it. He walked to the door as steadily as possible but the whole room was swaying around him so he stumbled a bit. When he reached the door, he took a deep breath, ready to act as sober as he could while definitely feeling the opposite. He swung the door open.</p>
<p>”Hi Maxy”, he was faced with a widely grinning Aussie. He couldn’t help but to smile himself, Daniel’s energy contagious.</p>
<p>”Hi”, he breathed out, waiting to see what the other man wanted.</p>
<p>”I was wondering if you’d want to come party with us? Find a club or something? I tried calling but you didn’t pick up”, Daniel explained. Of course Max hadn’t picked up his phone. He’d turned it off and hidden it the second he’d opened the bottle. He really didn’t trust himself not to do stupid things on social media when he wasn’t sober anymore. He didn’t want to end up explaining anything his drunk self would say. His brain picked up on the first part of the question and Max realized there were actually other people standing behind Daniel. Max considered for a moment saying no. He really was drunk enough. If he’d drink as much as he normally drank when going out with Daniel he’d get alcohol poisoning.</p>
<p>”Yeah, sure. Let me get my jacket real quick”, he answered regardless, because he was drunk. Drunk Max was even worse at making good decisions than the sober version of him.<br/>-<br/>The second Max had gotten his first drink at the night club they’d found right around the corner from their hotel he felt a bit easier, knowing he wouldn’t need to pretend to be sober anymore, his drunkenness could be blamed on not having eaten much or something.</p>
<p>Still he was too drunk to be keeping up with Daniel’s drinking without actually risking death. He knew Daniel noted the amount of drinks Max had refused from the man throughout the night, but seriously, Max had some regard for his life and he did feel bad for his liver at times so he had to hold back a bit. Still, he had to accept some drinks, including two rounds of shots, to avoid the most of the questioning. He regretted that one in a minute though, his body really not agreeing with the amount of alcohol he’d put in it that night.</p>
<p>”’an… I think... I g’tta g’ back t’ the hotel”, he shouted in the general direction of Daniel, hoping to be loud enough to reach Daniel over the music. He knew he looked absolutely wasted, leaning on Dan for balance, slurring his words and eyes hooded and unfocused. He tried to focus on Daniel’s face as he turned to look at him, not succeeding particularly well. He missed the flash of worry on Daniel’s face.</p>
<p>”Jesus, Max, how drunk are you?” Max heard Daniel ask but he couldn’t find the words to answer, scared he might let something slip.</p>
<p>”Okay I’ll come with you”, Daniel told him when Max didn’t answer. He grabbed a hold of Max, holding the younger man up, making Max relieved someone was holding him up as he really didn’t trust his legs anymore.</p>
<p>”N’ need, I’ll be fine”, he slurred at Dan. He didn’t want to burden the other man, even if he did realize he would never make it back to his room in one piece.</p>
<p>”Max you can’t even stand up by yourself. I’m taking you back”, Daniel insisted and Max couldn’t really argue with that. He let the other man drag him out of the club and his last memory of the night was Daniel holding him up as he puked his guts onto the sidewalk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>4.</p>
<p>Max wasn’t sure how he’d ended up standing outside of Daniel’s hotel room door, hand raised, ready to knock. He had been feeling some sort of empty earlier, around the time he’d downed his first mouthful of the first alcoholic beverage he could get his hands on and now he was here, staring at the number on the door. He didn’t really have a clear memory of his trip down here but he could somewhat remember the reason. He’d been lonely, his chest aching at the lack of human contact. He had no idea where the feeling had come from out of nowhere, but the only person he could think of to fill the void inside him was Daniel. The man was always so comforting, so kind, he would never turn Max down. And more importantly they’d had their moments back in the day, when they’d both been driving for Red Bull, when their flirting had escalated to them getting off together in quiet storage rooms. And that was what Max was after. So he knocked.</p>
<p>Daniel was fast to open the door and Max was even faster to act. He pushed into the room, the need to touch, to be close to someone consuming him. He knew he’d never do this if he was sober, but he wasn’t, so that helped when he pushed Daniel against the wall. This was the point in which he hoped the breath mints and cologne he’d put on to mask the alcohol were working, because they were close enough for Daniel’s breath to be fanning on his face so Daniel could definitely smell it on him if it was strong enough.</p>
<p>”Max-” Daniel started but Max wasn’t there to talk. Mainly because then it would be obvious he was drunk and Daniel finding out wasn’t an option he was willing to consider. He smashed their lips together and the relief rushing through him when Daniel kissed him back and kicked the door closed was overwhelming. He let his hands wander up Daniel’s body as he pushed himself closer.</p>
<p>”Max, what do you want?” Daniel asked when Max moved his lips to his neck to kiss the skin there. Max smiled when he heard Daniel was out of breath.</p>
<p>”You”, Max whispered against Daniel’s skin. Max could feel Daniel’s Adam’s apple bob under his lips as Daniel considered whether he was on board with this. Max pushed his hands under Daniel’s shirt, running his fingers over his abs and pushed his leg forward to feel Daniel’s hardening cock against his thigh. Max smirked at that. He knew Daniel would be on board.</p>
<p>”C’mon, then, Maxy. The bed’s that way”, Daniel said, his smirk evident in his voice, and pushed Max back a bit. Max smiled up at him and turned to make his way on said bed. In the middle of the whole process of kissing Daniel he’d forgotten how drunk he actually was and how sober he was supposed to be. So at his first step he stumbled and had to lean on a wall to keep himself upright.</p>
<p>”Maxy?” he heard Daniel’s worried voice. Shit, he’d fucked up. He looked up, smiled at Daniel in a way that was trying to be reassuring and continued his way to the bed, throwing himself on it. To his relief, Daniel followed him there and straddled Max. His relief was short-lived, though.</p>
<p>”Max. Are you drunk?” Daniel asked, inspecting Max’ face up close. Max froze. Shit.</p>
<p>”No”, he lied on instinct. Dan furrowed his brow.</p>
<p>”Yes, you are. I can tell”, Daniel continues. Fuck. Of course he could. Max didn’t answer, his mind racing a mile a minute. He’d known this was a bad idea, he’d just felt so bad he’d had to try something. He did the only thing he could think of in the moment to get out, and that was to lean up to kiss Daniel again. The man pulled back immediately, though. Max felt dizzying disappointment at being rejected.</p>
<p>”Max. You’re drunk. I’m not doing anything with you in that state”, Daniel said sternly and rolled off of Max. Max was left laying on his back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. This was not how he’d imagined his night going.</p>
<p>”Max... Is everything okay? This isn’t really your style”, Daniel whispered after a moment. Max didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure of the answer anymore. He wanted so bad to say everything was okay, but by now he’d had to admit to himself that he’d slipped bad. So he stayed silent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>5.</p>
<p>Max’ world was spinning and he wasn’t sure how much of that was because of the alcohol and which part was because of the mess of jumbled thoughts in his head making everything confusing. He’d had a bad race again. A DNF of his own doing. After that incident with Daniel weeks before he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t touch any form of alcohol with a twelve-foot pole for the rest of the season. Of course that had failed at the first sight of trouble, though, and now he was slumped against some wall in a hotel corridor, no idea how he was going to make it to his room. His legs had given up on him and after that he’d felt powerless to move, so for the time being he was just staying as he was.</p>
<p>”Max?” he heard an all too familiar voice near him. He didn’t answer but he did try and sit up a bit more. It was a struggle but he managed. His vision was a bit hazy but he registered Daniel’s face when it appeared in front of him. The trademark grin was missing, though. A shame, really.</p>
<p>”Are you drunk?” Daniel asked. A bit of a dumb question considering he’d just found Max laying on the floor in a corridor in a hotel, eyes unfocused, reeking of alcohol.</p>
<p>”A bit”, Max giggled. Daniel just sighed and put his hand on his shoulder.</p>
<p>”You think you can get up?” Daniel asked carefully. Max considered it a moment. His legs had given up once already so he really wouldn’t bet on it.</p>
<p>”N’t sure”, he admitted quietly. Another sigh from Daniel, but the man moved to help Max stand up from the floor, ready to catch the man if he fell.</p>
<p>”Max I’m worried about you”, Daniel said as he’d managed to drag Max into his room. Max’ heart ached. He didn’t want to worry Daniel. The man was too precious for that.</p>
<p>”’m fine, nothing t’ worry ’bout”, he slurred out. He felt Daniel press against his side, cuddling up to him.</p>
<p>”I don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself, Max… Please let me help.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>+1</p>
<p>Max had done a lot of thinking after the second Daniel incident. Most importantly he’d admitted to himself that if he didn’t stop now he wouldn’t do it at all. He’d been spiralling for a long time now and he couldn’t go on if he didn’t want to reach the point of no return. Still, when the race went bad because his car hates him, he found himself holding a bottle. It was unopened. For now. The urge to open the bottle was overwhelming, he craved it, but he had to consider his career. For now he’d only gotten drunk between races and never on or right before a day he’d spend in the car, but if he let himself spiral badly enough, he couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t get in the car drunk. The thought terrified him. He started crying, because as bad as that sounded, he was still holding the bottle. He was letting out sobs that wracked his entire body. How had he let it get to this point? He’d really be ready to let this ruin his career?</p>
<p>He let the bottle drop on the floor and left it there, not daring to touch, but he knew it would be a temptation too strong for his self-restraint if he stayed there, so he made his way to the only place he could think of. To Daniel. He knocked on another one of Daniel’s hotel room doors, the situation a stark contrast to the previous time.</p>
<p>Daniel opened the door and Max smiled shakily at him. The other man wordlessly let him in, looking worried.</p>
<p>”You been drinking?” Daniel asked as soon as Max sat on his bed. Max felt ashamed that there was a need for that to be the first question Daniel asked. He understood, though. He shook his head.</p>
<p>”You sure?” It hurt Max a bit that Daniel didn’t believe him. He couldn’t blame him, though. Not with his track record and the way he looked like he was in the middle of a breakdown. Which he was, to be fair.</p>
<p>”I was going to”, he admitted in a whisper. ”That’s why came here. Daniel I need help.” With that he broke down again. There were strong hands on him as he fell apart, sobbing on Daniel’s bed.</p>
<p>”Max I’m so glad you’re here now”, Daniel whispered into his hair. Max didn’t feel easy talking about things, but with that he knew he’d made the right choice. He was too far gone to help himself alone, and Dan was the first person he’d trust. He exhaled shakily.</p>
<p>”I-” he started up and choked again. Dan was rubbing his back comfortingly as he tried to find the words. For a moment he considered just not speaking but he’d come this far. If he didn’t start talking now he wouldn’t do it at all. So he took a deep breath and continued. ”I think I have a problem with… alcohol. I’m not, like, constantly drunk, but way too often. I wasn’t going to drink during the season at all but I’ve been drunk every week now. You’ve seen me a couple times but it’s been more frequent than that. In the beginning, like years ago, it made me happy so I did it because of that, but when it didn’t make me feel better anymore, I couldn’t stop.” Daniel was quiet and Max was whispering his words into Daniel’s shirt as he was now clinging to the man like he was his last lifeline. Max took a shuddery breath and carried on.</p>
<p>”That night we were at the club… I was that drunk because I’d been drinking before we went. Kinda a lot.” There was a sharp inhale at that, Daniel clearly thinking back to what happened.</p>
<p>”And the last two times?”</p>
<p>”I don’t really have an explanation for the first thing”, Max admitted. Speaking was getting a bit easier now that he’d gotten started. Especially because Daniel had been there on the occasions so the information wasn’t exactly new to him either. ”It just kinda happened. Sorry for trying to borderline molest you, though… The second time I just had a crappy race and I was just gonna drink a bit but I just kept thinking I wasn’t drunk enough and I drank more and… yeah that’s a problem as well, I think.”</p>
<p>”Thanks for telling me, Maxy”, Daniel whispered. Lips pressed against Max’ forehead and Max started crying again. He was so relieved someone knew now, he was glad he wasn’t alone with his thoughts anymore. Daniel laid him down on the bed and cuddled closer to him as they kept talking and Max kept crying.</p>
<p>Max wasn’t an idiot. Realistically Daniel knowing wouldn’t make everything magically better, but at least he had shared his burden with someone he could trust. He had a long road ahead and possibly some professional help, but the compassion in Daniel’s eyes as he held him at least gave him some assurance that he wasn’t going to be on his own anymore.</p>
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